Distribution will not be equal

A friend from Hawaii writes that a branch bearing sixteen ripened avocados fell off their tree, and she would gladly share them if only I would come across. Her husband carefully logs numbers and guards them from scalpers. So there may be no better reason for a trip to Hawaii. Just yesterday I was spared some envy and slightly assuaged with a pretty good one for Minnesota store-bought. Rare. It was large and dark, evenly acned, made you want to press your thumbs in like that gross scene with the eyes in Blade Runner - not a good idea. And don't look up the scene on youtube. The peel lifted smoothly and the inside it was that perfect green to yellow and easily turned to the consistency of Pantene Hair Conditioner when I mashed it with a fork. I added fresh lime juice, minced garlic, hot pepper flakes, salt and spread it on lightly toasted bread, placed a slice of ripe tomato on top, grated parmesan cheese, and broiled it for a minute or two. mmmm. We ate it on the back porch in perfect temps and looked at the flowers blooming wildly as if they know time is short. But a mere branch of sixteen? And today she says that three of them made four pounds of guacamole? I faintly writhe.